Bash reaches across the bar and cups my hand in his, without hesitation.
"Hi," he says, his voice low and sexy. "My name's Bash, and I think I might be your new possibility."
A laugh escapes me, soft and real.
He steps out from behind the bar, ignoring the women who immediately start calling for refills.
"Amelia," he whispers, close enough that I feel his breath on my skin.
"Hi, Pretty Boy."
For a few seconds, he just stares at me, his hands gripping my upper arms as if he's making sure it's really me.
"I didn't know you'd be here tonight," he says, eyes darting back and forth between mine.
"Me either."
He studies my face. "You look so beautiful. I'm glad you came."
"I didn't know if I'd be able to face you," I admit.
"Why?"
"I wasn't sure you'd want to see me,"
He frowns, his brows pulling together. "How could you think that?"
"It's been a while, and I had things to work through. My mind's clearer now."
Something settles in him at that. He moves carefully, like he thinks I might disappear if he moves too fast.
"Of course I want to see you," he laughs. "Are you staying?"
"If that's what you want."
That answer seems to steady him. The girls call for him again, impatience creeping into their voices. He glances briefly in their direction, then back to me.
He brushes his thumb lightly across my cheek. "Give me three minutes."
He goes back behind the bar, speaks quietly to the other bartender, and prints out a couple of receipts to finish what he was doing. Then he returns and takes my hand. "Come on."
He leads me upstairs to the VIP lounge, to the same corner where we first met. The music is a bit muted here, more vibration than sound.
We sit, and he pulls me close without hesitation.
For a moment, we just drink each other in.
Then we talk.
Leaning in, our heads nearly touching, speaking quietly, whispering our secrets, saying things we should've said months ago. Almost like no time has passed, we slip back into easy conversation with each other. It's not rushed or dramatic. Just real.
He asks how I've been and if therapy helped.
I tell him the truth. Therapy can only go so far in such a short amount of time, but it helped. It gave me clarity. I put my spine back in place.
He admits to checking my social media like a stalker until he forced himself to stop because it hurt too much to look at me.
We laugh about small things and apologize for the things that mattered.
